Of That Ilk

From the beginning

kindred voices whisper

between words.

Sea through the windows.

Landlocked roots.

You reel me in without a net.

Gently unhook.  For keeps.

Channels pulse an ancient beat,

deeper in your eyes than blue.

I have been away too long.

Ancestors line the shore.

One of them points―

"Your man over there"

I take him literally.

They applaud as rain.

Rush of belonging sweeps

stronger than a tailwind.

I grasp your arm

to keep from flying―

put me down!

Look at my pale feet

unearthed from nowhere,

still covered in grubs.

I dig in my heels.
Spread my toes like fins.

tk/May 2015

Lovely retro-esque read by R.A.D. ...

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Stride

First, I notice

the easy stride. 

You move mainstream.

Two long steps for each of mine.

I think of the time

you wander to Birmingham

for that first punk album―

coins in your pocket

like the silver your grandfather earned,

walking nineteen miles

straight up the middle of Yell

to fiddle for a wedding.

Those boyish endeavors bring you luck,

make your heart beat like a drum―

ancestral rhythms, word of mouth,

a fine-tuned ear.

You offer me your arm,

my feet barely touch the ground.

We dance a simple reel of lamp-posts,

paving stones, letterboxes―

speaking of―we stop the incessant writing,
to walk what's left of our wits.

tk March 2015

*photo: Old Bank Street, Manchester, UK by R.A.D. Stainforth

A most lovely read by R.A.D. ...

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Wanderlust

I return.  Two if by sea.

God-force without a compass.

Not for homesickness.

I have no real place.

The rail acts as stylus.

Dirty crackle.  Hiss of anticipation.

I board a north boat with lanterns.  

Gulls in my wake.

The edge of the world knows

the songs of my heavy-booted fathers.

Cliffs rise to welcome me.

Oceanic.  Colder than pewter.

Wyeth skies find a home

on the other side of the Atlantic.

I see an unknown soldier in the clouds,

covered with a greatcoat.  

He whispers.  Mainland.

Welcomes me with a wheelhouse.

Offers cake.  A pillow for my head.
Shows me the next bend in the road.

tk/August 2014

R.A.D. Stainforth, fresh from a wander in Shetland...

*photo: Yell Sound, Shetland, 2014, by R.A.D. Stainforth 

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